My winter read this year was Natsume Sōseki’s 1906 satirical novel I am a Cat (original title: Wagahai wa Neko de Aru). The novel is told from the perspective of an unnamed cat and contains vignettes of its observations of its master Mr Sneaze (Sōseki’s conception of himself), Mrs Sneaze (his wife), and several of Mr Sneaze’s companions: Waverhouse, Coldmoon, Beauchamp, and Singleman in Meiji Era Japan. This post is not meant to be an in-depth analysis of the themes of the novel; this is neither the time nor place for it. Rather, I wish to highlight some elements I found intriguing and how they relate to the modern American world.
But first, a little background:
The Meiji Era was one of turbulence in Japan. In February 1867, Prince Mutshito ascended to the throne and became emperor of Japan. For more than two centuries, Japan’s emperor was a nominal title; in reality, the country was ruled by the shōgun and some 300 feudal lords known as daimyo, a period known as the Tokugawa Shogunate (1603-1868). However, after Commodore Matthew Perry forcibly opened Japan to trade in 1853, Western influences began to enter this isolated culture, putting pressure on the shōgun to modernize. Eventually, the pressure became too much; on November 9, 1867, shōgun Tokugawa Toshinobu resigned. A new government was formed under Emperor Mutshito (posthumously known as Emperor Meiji) on January 3, 1868.
Mutshito ushered in many reforms such as abolishing class privileges, creating an elected advisory body called the Diet (the Diet was based on British Parliament, but had little true power—the Emperor had final say in everything), further opening to international trade, and so on. Furthermore, Japan had just won a decisive victory over Russia in the Russo-Japanese War, spurring national pride among the Japanese. The Meiji Era had rapid social, cultural, political, and economic changes.
It is during this turbulence that I Am A Cat was written. And, among the different characters (and even the cat itself), we see anxieties, hopes, and concerns. This is especially true in Volume III, which contains many interesting discussions. For example, at one point in observing what we now call the “principal-agent problem,” the cat observes:
Similarly, public officials are servants of the people and can reasonably be regarded as agents to whom the people have entrusted certain powers to be exercised on the people’s behalf in the running of public affairs. But as these officials grow accustomed to their daily control of affairs, they begin to acquire delusions of grandeur, act as though the authority they exercise was in fact their own and treat the people as though the people had no say in the matter (pg 361 of the Kindle Edition).
Other times, in a paragraph that sounds a lot like Adam Smith’s parable of the poor man’s son, they worry about how commercial values (what is called “modern man”) could affect people’s characters, as demonstrated by Mr. Sneaze:
Modern man, even in his deepest slumber, never stops thinking about what will bring him profit, or even more worrying, loss…Modern man is jittery and sneaky. Morning, noon, and night he sneaks and jitters and knows no peace. Not one single moment’s peace until the cold gave takes him. That’s the condition to which our so-called civilization has brought us. And what a mess it is (pg 440).
(Note the loss-aversion in this concern, too.)
Changing social powers (as observed by Singelman):
“There, you see how times have changed. Not so long ago the power of those in authority was unlimited. Then came a time when there were certain things which even they could not demand. But nowadays there are strict limits upon the power of peers and even ministers to compel the individual…Our fathers would be astonished to see how things which the authorities clearly want done, and have ordered should be done, nevertheless remain undone (pg 450).”
And, again channelling Adam Smith, the duality of man to both want freedom and to dominate:
Obviously, each individual grew a little stronger by reason of this new individuality. But, of course, precisely because everyone had grown stronger, everyone had also grown weaker than their fellow-individuals…Everyone, naturally, likes to be strong, and no one, naturally, likes to be weak (pg 452).
I could quote this book at length, but I have already gone on too long and not gotten to my point.
The point I have is that, in reading foreign literature (and interacting with foreign culture more broadly), we see the universality of humanity. We have the same concerns. We have the same pleasures. We have the same goals in life. True, arbitrary lines and languages separate us. Geography can influence culture and so on. But it is not, as the nationalists frequently argue, that we are just too different to interact. Foreign interactions help us see our common humanity. This, in turn, helps us sympathize with foreigners and break down the so-called “friend-enemy distinction.”
